


They started sayin' if you can't hide, run (and if you can't run, hide)

by corvinephan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Catholicism, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Religion, Sexual Tension, boy erased au, conversion camp, self-indulgent discussion about gay poets, there are some really sweet moments in this it's not all bleak i promise, this makes sense either way, you don't need to have watched the movie or read the book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvinephan/pseuds/corvinephan
Summary: A summer camp in hell, where the only available activity is repenting for your sins. In the beginning, Dan prayed it wasn't happening to him. By the end, he was angry and seeking vengeance, but along the way, he found something precious, worth holding on for. With memories of something past following his every move, Dan realizes that staying idle is the only way to ensure you never escape.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Jimmy Hill/Dan Howell
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33
Collections: Phandom Reverse Bang 2019





	They started sayin' if you can't hide, run (and if you can't run, hide)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear, where do I start? First, thank you to my beta @artlessdynamite and my artist @counting2fifteen on tumblr, who helped me bring this thing to life, and thank you to my irl friends who listened to me talk about this over and over again, y'all are the real MVP's. This has been my first time writing long fanfic, and it was exclusively written at 3 am while high on caffeine. It makes me really happy to put it into the world, even if it might have ended up being a bit of a mess. So again, thank you so so much to everyone involved, and without further ado, happy reading.
> 
> P.S. The title is inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's song "Run and Hide".

Dan hoped it wasn't him. He hoped it was another Daniel Howell, someone else with the same name, same face, same past. He felt his whole face go up in flames when the teacher stared pointedly at him, an expectant look gracing his features, one that was asking him why he was even there anymore. Dan felt the shame in his cheeks, ears, neck, and in the pressure behind his eyes threatening to humiliate him even further. He got up from his chair and quickly packed his bag, sure that those would be the final moments he ever spent in that classroom.

The whole way to the principal's office Dan wondered why the hell he had committed so hard to the biggest mistake of his life, and why he felt a burning in his chest and a taste so sour at the mere prospect of leaving that mistake behind. He had to remind himself how to walk, how to breathe, even though it seemed beyond pointless while his world was crumbling around him. He didn't raise his eyes from the ground, watching his steps obsessively, not wanting to risk glancing at the world around him and seeing the black void he felt was creeping up his legs and into his soul.

"This way, Mr. Howell," Mrs. Mallard was leading the way. Dan didn't need her coaching, having spent the last decade wandering the halls of that school, yet he was weirdly thankful for having even this minute responsibility taken from him. Walking the halls alone would have given him too much time to plan an escape, and somehow that stressed him more than there being no such prospect. In no time at all, they had arrived.

"There we go, inside, inside, quickly!" she ushered him, holding the door open and gesturing frantically with her hand. She looked like the type of person who ate breakfast, washed the dishes and fed her cats at the same time, the epitome of efficiency and no-nonsense attitude. Dan paid her no mind. His insides were troubled by entirely different things. No thoughts were actually going through his head, but the dread settling in his stomach was enough of an indicator as to what kind of day Dan was having.

"Take a seat," the principal gestured to the several chairs placed opposite his desk, which Dan felt were full of spirits mocking him. The chairs were old and dusty, much like the principal himself. Everything around him seemed to buzz with barely-audible laughter like the walls were snickering, gossiping about him. The universe itself felt too tiny and minuscule and too centered on him and his mistakes. Well, mistake. He felt like there was only one worth noting.

The principal loudly cleared his throat and looked around the room. An uncomfortable silence settled over them, only broken by Mrs. Mallard's shrill voice screeching "Come on then! We've not got all day, have we?" The old man gave in then, visibly sagging at the thought of having to have this particular conversation with a student. Dan could relate, and he almost felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor old man.

"Very well then. It has been brought to my attention, boy, that there have been some… inappropriate encounters, happening in the halls of this school. I was told of these encounters for some time now, by several head boys, yet I was hoping they would stop on their own. As you can guess from your presence in this room, they did not."

Dan felt himself become calm all of a sudden. It was game over.

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, yes… entirely inappropriate…" he muttered to himself. "Well. As you can probably guess, I have called your parents and they will be here at any moment to pick you up. After we have a chat and they decide upon an appropriate punishment, we can discuss your status as a student of this school." Principal Botterill didn't meet Dan's eyes once. He felt a bit insulted.

Dan did expect the threat of expulsion from the school, yet the casual mention of it by the principal made his stomach drop. There goes all the calm. That lasted a good two minutes. The unfairness of it all made his eyes sting even more, and he mustered all his willpower to remain calm.

Thankfully, the principal kept talking, so he had a minimum of distraction going on.

"Now, I feel, boy, that you should have a chance to defend yourself, or at least give us your side of the story. Mr. Hill might help with that." right on cue, Mrs. Mallard came back into the room, closely followed by a student about Dan's age. Dan stared. Jimmy wasn't looking at him.

Jimmy was so damn beautiful, and Dan regretted not being more careful, not protecting this thing they had. Jimmy looked guilty, but Dan knew it was guilt from being caught more than anything else.

Dan fidgeted in his chair and looked down at his hands.

Principal Botterill turned to Jimmy.

"Mr. Hill, could you describe your encounters with Mr. Howell?"

"I'd rather not, sir. God knows what you'd be charged with if I started laying out the details," he said, in a flat tone. Dan heard the irony, but Mr. Botterill didn't look amused. He was the only one that smiled at Jimmy's joke.

The principal sighed. "Very well, then. Maybe Mr. Howell can enlighten me as to what went down." he looked at Dan, pleading with his eyes for him to say something, anything that could end the conversation faster.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir." Dan turned and looked at Jimmy's face. He had curly, dark brown hair, almost black, not unlike his own, but his face was more squared off, his jawline making him look more mature than Dan's rounded one did. He had a straight nose, which Dan wanted to kiss with all his being and light blue eyes which reminded Dan of the happiest morning skies. When he saw them, he couldn't breathe.

His only problem was that those morning skies were not looking at him. He felt like the moon. Never able to witness the picture-perfect ensemble of strange and beautiful hidden just a mere few hours away. And Dan remembered then the moments they spent snickering with each other, lying in the grass and looking at the clouds, but more often looking at each other, and the moments they used to spend in each other's bed when their parents weren't home, looking and analyzing each other's faces. He felt a pang of happiness then, which quickly dissipated when the reality of his situation set in. Dan cleared his throat and looked away, shyly eyeing the principal through the curly fringe that was blocking his vision. His hair was wavy, yet now it was sitting flat and deflated on top of his head, wet from all the humidity and perspiration Dan had produced. He felt his fringe with the tips of his fingers, pulling at it and messing it up, in an attempt to make himself look more presentable. Even now, he felt scared at the prospect of disappointing Jimmy or looking less than perfect in front of him.

A depressing thought crossed his mind. It didn't matter what he did to look beautiful for Jimmy if the boy wasn't even looking at him. Dan felt a void sucking up his emotions, leaving him empty except for dread and shame.

An awkward silence filled the room. No one knew what to say, what to do, and Dan was just praying for his parents to come pick him up already. At least then he could start feeling fear and leave the shame behind.

And then they were there, apologizing on behalf of Dan and talking for him as if he wasn't even really there. Dan felt like a shadow of a human. His mom grabbed his hand and dragged him up from his chair, pushing him outside without speaking. At the last second, before he exited the office and the school for good, he turned to give Jimmy one last look. Jimmy looked back.

***

He sat down on the bed and his eyes fixated on his desk, his pupils unmoving. He was helpless as long as he lived with his parents. The thought of running away wasn't far from his mind, but then what would he do? He could go to Jimmy's house, but he had a feeling his parents had received a similar call and wouldn't be happy to see him. So really, what choice did he have but to sit there and take it? Take the consequences he so shamelessly asked for with his behaviour. He felt wretched.

Dan heard the front door open. He creeped out of his room to spy on whoever just came in, but before he could see their face, his parents had already led the newcomer to the kitchen. Dan could hear the conversation pretty well from his place sitting on the stairs.

"He is sick, pastor," Dan's dad said. "The devil is inside him, and I'm afraid we might not get him back unless harsh measures are taken." Dan heard him breathe heavily. He let his head drop to the side until his cheek was pressed against the cold wall bracketing the stairs. He felt defeated, afraid.

"Mr. Howell," and then, after a short pause, "listen to me, there is a way out. A way for your son to become himself again. But he needs to be open to it. God can't force His way into someone's heart, no matter how much He loves His children."

"Pastor… I'm afraid my son might be too far gone to reason with." his voice was shaking. He was angry, Dan knew. But he didn't sound angry at _him_. He sounded angry at the world, at the 'devil' who took away his innocent son and replaced him with the boy-loving monstrosity ready to tear their family apart. Dan had done that. He tore their family apart. God, he was so stupid. He thunked his head on the wall.

"Bring him to me. Trust the Lord."

Dan stood up then and silently moved back up. He stopped at the top of the stairs, leaned on the bannister and looked down at his dad, who was staring at him like he didn't recognize him. Dan felt a surge of power. A deep-seated kind of knowledge seeped through to his consciousness, an epiphany of sorts, except he'd always known it deep down. And just like that, the guilt was gone. He hadn't been the one to destroy their family. His dad was.

***

Packing hadn't been hard. Neither was arriving there, settling in, unpacking. He'd done it all on autopilot. But by the time he had to go to the first meeting, his autopilot ran out.

The pastor was nice. He smiled at him when he arrived and kept smiling until his mother hugged him and left the building. She had made sure he had everything he needed, checked a thousand times for his toothbrush, hairbrush, deodorant. He appreciated it in hindsight, but right then it had felt too performative, too much like pretending everything was okay when it wasn't. The pastor kept smiling as she walked backwards to her car, awkwardly waving at Dan and barely holding in her tears. She tried to appear unaffected. Her forced smile as she backed out of the driveway, her stiff way of handling herself and the uncomfortable aura she projected made Dan cringe to himself. He felt relieved when her car was out of sight.

The pastor turned to him, smile slowly fading away, and beckoned him inside, passing the reception and entering the actual 'study' area of the building. Dan was glad he wasn't smiling anymore. It had looked too much like his mouth was taped open at the corners, and Dan was glad to see that he could relax his face. The place was a long hallway, bracketed by doors on either side, with a set of double doors at the end opposite to the entrance. Immediately to his right, there was a set of stairs hiding in a small alcove with shadows floating over it. Next to it was a bathroom that Dan was sure was neatly split into a boys room and a girls one. The pastor led him down the hallway and into the 'great hall' at the end of the long corridor.

It didn't look half bad. It was like a festivities room, with a stage and chairs lined up in front of it. Big windows opened up the room, making it seem less daunting than the shadowy stairs he saw earlier, which he presumed led to the dormitories. There was no one else in that room, except for him and the pastor, who turned to close the doors and faced Dan.

The smile was back on his face.

"Young man, this is where you come to correct yourself." He walked around the room, not looking at Dan, gesticulating with his hands as he was speaking. "This is where your devotion to God shows best." He went and opened the windows, and Dan shivered in the newly created current of air. "You will be here for a few weeks, and we will take all the steps necessary for you to let go of your past traumas and find a new way," He paused and turned around, "through God."

Dan stood there, looking at the young pastor, who seemed just as nervous as he was about this first meeting. The pastor fiddled with his fingers, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Right, then. This was it. Time to get started.

***

Dan sat on one of the chairs arranged in a circle in the tiny room they'd all gathered in. He had expected the meetings to all be in the great festivities hall and had prepared himself for something rather different than what he was about to receive. He had expected impersonal lectures, something he could easily tune out if he found them to be too much, or too little, or if they just became too boring for him to bear. But this, this was about to be a whole nightmare for him. This was audience participation with people he didn't know. Bad. Very bad. And he didn't expect any of the topics to be about things he'd willingly share in public.

He wasn't allowed a phone, a laptop, any kind of jewelry, not even a wristwatch. He had nothing to fiddle with except for his own fingers, and nothing to do with his brain other than let his thoughts wander. And wander they did. To better times in his life, to times when Jimmy was by his side laughing and they were wrestling. Wrestling which would end in kisses and the touching of forbidden places. Dan's mind defaulted to those images when he was bored, and right then, waiting, was one of those times. When the pastor walked in, Dan drew all the strength and comfort he could from these images and braced himself for what he imagined was going to be a guilt-tripping session of indescribable magnitude. 

By the end of it, he almost wished that that was what he got.

***

"Welcome, everyone," he said, addressing the fifteen people in the room. "Most of you are familiar with what we do here, but I'm going to start by addressing the fresh faces that have come to us for guidance."

"Here, our mission is to bring you back to the path desired for you by God. All of you have dealt with the pain and struggle brought on by homosexual attraction, and most of you have come here willingly to seek help. I'm here to tell you that it's okay. The desires themselves do not matter, only your willingness to give them up for God does. And in your desire to please Him, I'm sure all of you will make progress on your path."

"You will find that your stories are hauntingly similar, and my hope is that you will help each other overcome the hurdles ahead."

Dan was annoyed by the insinuation that what they provided was a community. Most of the faces surrounding him looked hollow, like puppets had been stringed to the ceiling and manipulated into almost-human looking positions. And the ones that looked normal Dan guessed were the newcomers. It was an almost unbearable atmosphere of fake cheeriness and optimism from the pastor, that wasn't mirrored by any of the teens sitting around him. He guessed that the rest of the educational package didn’t come as colourfully wrapped as this first part.

"Now we will go around the circle and introduce ourselves, okay? I'll start. My name is pastor Forbes, Michael Forbes if you will, and I've been helping lost youth like you lot for over twenty years. You can come ask me for help at any time and I'll use any and all knowledge available to me to help you. Now, Charlie, you go."

***

Charlie was a beautiful blond guy, looked like a model, yet when he spoke, his voice was barely audible, and he didn't look anyone in the eye. Dan thought he saw his shoulders shaking, but it could have very well been a trick of the eye. Then came Alex, Gina, Peter, Matthew, Aaron, Alice and George, Tina, Brooke, Wesley, Nat and Luca, and, last but not least, Philip. They all had something to say about themselves, some way to present their story in two sentences or less. Dan did not.

"Hi, my name's Dan, and I'm here to… well, we all know," his voice trailed off. "I didn't really prepare anything." Dan looked around the room, hoping to find his words faster. And then he caught the eyes of this boy. Philip, he guessed. Black hair pushed up in a long, messy quiff, and a very intense stare. A smirk played at his lips. Dan averted his gaze and looked at the pastor for help.

"Just say what's on your mind, Dan. Why are you here?"

Dan had no time to run anything he was about to say through a filter. His thoughts and his speech were one and the same. Trouble.

"I was kicked out of school for hooking up with a guy in an empty classroom." he swallowed. "multiple times." he looked at the ground, then looked up again and across the room. Philip was still looking at him, yet this time his stare was more intrigued than playful. He thought he might have taken him by surprise.

"And are you on your way to redemption?"

The pastor's voice, so soft and patronizing, was starting to get on Dan's nerves.

"No, sir, I don't think I am."

***

He had gone outside after that, looked at the driveway and wished his mom would be there to pick him up, maybe apologize, say it had been a mistake and take him away. But no one showed up. The countryside was empty through to the horizon, no sounds penetrated this miserable bubble of isolation he was in. He would have said it was peaceful, romantic even, if he didn't have a pit in his stomach swallowing him from the inside out like a black hole. It was hot, it was summer after all, and he should have been at home, planning road trips to the big city with his friends. With Jimmy. Instead, he was a hundred miles from home, and the cicadas ringing in his ears didn't sound like freedom anymore. They sounded like screeching beasts, nails on a chalkboard, like being stuck. He felt he was lost in a different universe, one where he didn't even exist. No one missed him or felt that he was gone, he had been popped into an alternate reality where all he could do was impersonate the person he knew he should be. At that moment he truly knew what hopelessness felt like.

He heard someone walk up next to him. Blonde hair, but not natural. Curly. Dan saw the roots poking through, dark brown bleeding into the platinum golden strands. The boy had a thin face, but it suited him. He had a straight nose and round lips, and all his features made him look royal in some significant way. He leaned on one of the pillars that held up the ceiling of the patio and let his head drop back. He had his hands in his pockets and his legs crossed. He wore a white suit jacket, white pants, and white shoes. Dan didn't recognize him from earlier.

The boy had his eyes closed. "You don't look happy to be here. I'm shocked." He laughed and opened his eyes. Dan was confused.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Nothing much. You just look like you belong."

Dan laughed wryly. "No, not really. I said some things I shouldn't have. That's why I'm not happy. On top of not wanting to be here, I guess."

The boy relaxed back against the pillar and sighed.

"Let me give you some advice. Play the part. Let them think it's working, that you're getting better. You don't want to talk back, you don't want to break the rules. You won't become a hero if you do, you'll just earn yourself permanent residence here. And even those that want to be here don't want to be here forever." he smiled briefly. "If you're here long enough things get bad no matter what. So get out as soon as you can. And once you're home, you gotta figure out what to do next. You may have to leave everything you once knew behind. Everyone."

He turned to leave. Dan shouted after him.

"Hey! What's your name? And why haven't I seen you before?"

"I'm Noah. your group isn't the only one, y' know?" he looked serious all of a sudden. It didn't suit his face. "There are hundreds of us. This isn't a few grandmas doing the work of God reeducating troubled youth. This is an industry. As long as you're here, you're nothing more than a product. The sooner you realize that the better."

This time when he left, he didn't stop.

***

They were all paired up with someone. They paired the boys and the girls like they would normally, in an attempt to "facilitate and encourage the forming of normal and natural same-sex relationships". They meant platonic. They meant buddy-buddy, bros, pals, football-playing jocks or something, people who didn't have "dirty" thoughts about their flatmates or attempt anything deemed "inappropriate". Dan was starting to think giving into coming here so easily might have been a mistake.

His flatmate was this guy named Luca. Dan hadn't officially met him yet, but he was the only boy that was paying attention to what the bloody pastor was talking about earlier that day, so he guessed he was the person that inspired the whole "you're here of your own free will" speech. Dan sure wasn't.

He was sorting through his stuff when he heard the door open. Luca came in. Dan was about to say hi but he was interrupted by the loud sound of the door clicking shut. He didn't have enough time to try again as the guy basically ran to his room and slammed his door without addressing him at all. Dan didn't consider this a promising start. He had a thought that this just might be about his introduction earlier, and if he was correct then that guy probably wanted as much to do with him as he did. So better steer clear, Dan thought. In any case, he was hungry, and they were setting up dinner, so he closed his bag and headed back downstairs.

Apparently, they were eating in the great hall. They'd set up a long table for the kids and a round one a few feet off for the pastor and other administrative staff. Dan impulsively sat down right smack in the middle of the table, which wasn't something he did often. It was just… This whole place made him feel braver than usual. Brave enough to think about Philip, wait for him to come, brave enough to eat the forbidden fruit in front of God Himself and laugh about it. He had a feeling he'd come down from his high feeling bruised and regretful, but for now, he simply enjoyed feeling in control for once.

Philip came in and sat opposite him at the table, only he was a few seats off. Far enough away that he'd been once again constricted to only brief eye contact that made his insides feel a certain kind of way.

As he was eating the main course, meat and potatoes and some kind of weird red sauce that seemed to get everywhere he didn’t want it to, he realized that the nagging feeling in his stomach was guilt. He felt almost like his high was faltering for a second, but he didn't let it get away from him. He didn't let the feeling that he had unfinished business with Jimmy bother him, because it wasn't true. He and Jimmy had been casual and as far as he was concerned, the moment things went south anything they had was over and done with. So what if he was maybe still a little heartbroken? Still a little in love with the part of Jimmy that was gentle and caring, not the part that ignored him, didn't look him in the eye, didn't tell anyone about what they had? It meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. His whole life had been permutated to this other place, with other people, where things simply didn't mean the same thing as they did back home. This whole universe was an existence turned on its head, so Dan had to adapt. So what if the only thing he could think about as he was cutting the damn potatoes in half and then in half again was the way Jimmy would cup his cheek and lean in, touch and linger on his lips so softly? It meant nothing. By God, if Dan wouldn't _make it_ mean nothing.

His head prickled. There were eyes on him. And it wasn't just a sensation. All the people around him were looking at him, concern in their eyes. He looked down at his plate and realized that, with his internal monologue running on overload, he'd managed to puree the whole stack of potatoes into a fine paste. He'd even had a serious run on the meat, which laid torn up and sad on the other half of the plate. The red sauce made it look like a murder scene.

Dan instinctively looked at Philip, who he decided he'd now call Phil, and saw him almost bursting at the seams trying to keep his laughter in. He looked terribly out of place with that smile on his face, everyone around him looking sober and concerned. Dan thought he loved him a little bit right then, for taking a bit of the embarrassment away from him. Because his laugh wasn't aimed at him, no. It was the kind of laughter that came with an inside joke, and it thrilled Dan that he could have an inside joke with someone he'd never exchanged a word with in his life.

He cleared his throat, shot Phil one more look and pushed his chair back. He wasn't sure he was allowed to leave, but the adults were paying him no mind so he pushed his chair back under the table and simply walked out. He figured someone would come after him if he'd broken a rule.

Dan felt that power surge back on. He'd made himself look like a lunatic, sure, but he found one person who not only understood but was able to laugh about it with him.

***

The first actual lesson was one about the influence of their activities on the families, and how it affected _them_ that they 'decided' to pursue this lifestyle. It was classic guilt-tripping, and Dan wasn't swayed by it. However, as he looked around him, he saw just how effective this rhetoric was for the vast majority of teens there. He had started the day impassible, thinking "who would believe this crap" and ended it outraged, thinking "these people are evil."

That day he tried to eat his meals like a well-adjusted human being and went back to his room in the evening feeling his heartbreak slowly being replaced with anger. His roommate was still avoiding him, probably thinking he was a nutcase, and who could blame him? He slept fitfully that day, and the next, but by the end of the week he'd gotten accustomed to the bed and more or less got a good night's sleep every night. He'd fall asleep every day thinking of a different day, recalling one by one each of his adventures with Jimmy. The time they skipped class to go and eat cheesy fries and kiss with cheese breath and laugh, the time they didn't even go to school at all and rather had Dan sneak into Jimmy's house after his parents had gone to work and play video games all day, the moments when Jimmy would pause his game and comment on how ripped the main character was, and how he'd like to eat ice-cream off his abs, then proceeded to tackle Dan and kiss his belly while he was choking on his laughter, rolling around in pure joy yelling at him to stop; these moments seemed so far away it might as well have been a different incarnation of him doing all those things, someone who would never let himself be dragged into a fucking conversion camp without at least trying to fight it. And as he remembered these things, their make-out sessions in empty classrooms, their games and bets on the most public places they could kiss without people noticing, he thought he might as well have knocked on the principal's door day one and told him what they were up to. Their relationship had been doomed from the start.

But as the first week went by, he felt freer and freer. And as the cheesy fries and soppy memories slipped out of his mind -traitorously, he secretly thought- he realized he had worse things to worry about.

Pastor Forbes was the one in charge of lectures, which dominated the first week, but soon enough the group "bonding" activities started, which meant he had to say goodbye to those simple times of the shy pastor regurgitating propaganda and say hello to boot camp 'straight guy.'

They brought in a military man of about fifty, who looked like the last time he'd smiled was the last time he successfully made someone kill themselves. The first time he came into the great hall and climbed onto the stage, Dan looked back at Phil, but he didn't look back. He had his hair down that day, and looked soft around the edges, like he hadn't slept well that night. Dan felt his heart swell seeing him like that. He was worried though. Phil looked almost haunted and was staring right at the military man, transfixed. Dan saw him swallow hard and followed the line of his throat down to his collarbones, feeling his own throat dry up with want. After a few seconds, Phil saw him staring and shot him a half-hearted grin, which looked sincere and forced at the same time. Dan turned back around.

"I know y'all want to be treated _gently_ , to get some kind of special treatment like you're victims," his voice was loud and intimidating, and _scary_. The only facial expression he seemed capable of was rage. "I don't agree with that. Different people, different outlooks, I guess," at which point he shot Pastor Forbes a look, "but with me, the only treatment you'll get is the one you deserve. Cooperate, and you'll leave this place a changed person. Refuse to, and I'll have to go about my ways to make sure you do." he had an accent, very southern, and a very aggressive way of speaking. "I was once where you are, except it wasn't for struggling with thoughts and desires like yours. If I had to put those letters, those initials, next to my name, they would look like some sort of qualifications for some fancy university." He was referring to the abbreviations they all used on their poster boards of misery, to showcase their 'sins'. "Drugs, alcohol, violence. I had them all." he paused, and then looked at Dan and the rest of them like what he would say next was significant. "But I survived. I am here because I survived. And so will you."

He grabbed two chairs from the back of the stage and scraped them across the floor to the front. The sound of them screeching like that punctured the silence in the room in a way that made them seem that much louder. When he stopped, the two chairs were facing each other. He sat down on one of them, looked down at the paper in his hands and called out a name Dan recognized vaguely from the roll call on the first day. Adams, Gina. She shuffled up to the front and climbed on stage. Every step of hers seemed to last a lifetime. Finally, she sat down facing the military man.

"Tell us why you're here," he said. It was the same sentence Dan kept hearing over and over since his arrival. As if that was any mystery to be unraveled. The girl looked incredibly uncomfortable, and for good reason. This man, whatever his name was, was staring her up and down, waiting for a response. The whole situation made Dan so angry he could barely breathe.

"I was with a girl back home," she answered. He kept looking at her.

"And?" he said.

"And my parents found out so I came here." Dan could tell by the way his jaw twitched that she'd said the wrong thing.

He got up and walked to the middle of the stage.

"To be forgiven, you have to know what you are repenting for. Are you here because you "were" with a girl? No. You're here for the specifics of the sin you committed. If your only mistake had been being in the presence of a girl you wouldn't be here." he turned back to her. "So what. Did you. Do." The girl looked on the verge of tears.

"We undressed. I… touched her, I put my fingers inside her." she was shaking but he didn't look away.

"Go on," he said.

"That's it. I swear." she was sobbing, struggling to take in air.

Dan felt his entire body convulsing. He wanted to _scream_. He had the strongest urge to get up on stage and beat the living daylights out of this man. Dan was breathing heavily, his fists pulled tight around the margins of the chair. He could feel the splinters breaking through his skin. Or maybe it was just his hands prickling from the lack of blood flow because he was squeezing so hard. Either way, he didn't care much for the pain. He was broken out of his rage by something hitting his arm. He looked down and saw a bit of crumpled paper tossed next to his chair. He picked it up and looked behind him. Phil was looking at him with wide eyes, which, despite being bloodshot and having terrible bags under them, looked as alive with rage as Dan felt. He gestured for Dan to open the paper.

He did. In wonky capital letters, it said: "CALM DOWN". Dan looked behind him again. Phil shot him a quick smile and suddenly had this determined look on his face. Dan was worried. He pocketed the paper and prayed that no one would snitch.

Phil stood up and walked briskly towards the stage, didn't bother using the stairs, just climbed on, and went straight for Gina. He crouched in front of her and shushed her, repeating "It's okay" to her again and again, stroking her arm. Military man was watching them with a self-satisfied look on his face. Phil helped her get up and down from the stage and tried to get her to go outside. She resisted and gestured for her seat in the back and Phil took her there. Once she was seated and seemed calmer, Phil turned around and shot the guy the most disgusted look Dan had ever seen on someone, then got up and simply left the room. Dan didn't think this would pan out well for either of them.

Military man dismissed them after that but didn't make any move to leave. Instead, he got on stage and put the chairs back, and otherwise made himself busy. Dan left without looking back.

He went outside and looked for Phil, and found him sitting on the stairs to one of the side entrances. Phil looked up when he heard him approaching and laughed. He combed his hands through his hair, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"Hi," Dan said and sat down next to him. Phil looked up and at him through his messy fringe, then pushed it back in a quiff. It almost immediately flopped back down onto his face. He huffed.

"Don't tell me I shouldn't have done that. He deserved it."

Dan sighed. "Nope. I won't tell you that. And I reckon he did."

Phil sniffed and scratched his nose. "Sorry, I'm not usually like this." his face broke into a tentative grin and he looked at Dan. "If I were myself I'd suggest making an elaborate escape plan to execute at midnight, maybe stab some bitches on the way."

Dan had a laugh punched out of him at that. He caught himself looking again. Full bottom lip, black hair that tousled in the best way, impossibly blue eyes. In the moments of silence that followed, he managed to stare at his Adam's apple, again, and when he trailed his eyes back up, he was met with a smirk that felt like a punch to the gut.

"See something you like?" It was such a cliché thing to say, but it was the first time Dan had heard it in real life and it was more effective at making him blush than he would have thought.

"Shut up," Dan said, and immediately burst into laughter. "That's such a stupid thing to say to someone." But he didn't mean it. He was beaming like an idiot. Phil had a sincere smile on his face and he was looking at Dan with a stare that he felt down to his toes.

"Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, who knows," he said. "I'm Phil, by the way."

"I'm Daniel. Dan. Don't call me Daniel, please." He regretted about half of the words that came out of his mouth.

"Okay Daniel Dan, nice to meet you." he smiled again, his tongue poking out through his teeth. Dan found this bad boy to be completely adorable. He couldn't look away.

They talked until the sun went down and the pastor came looking for them. Dan was sure he was in trouble, yet he couldn't bring himself to care. He was giddy, giggling like a schoolgirl on the way to the dorms, euphoric as one could get. He'd met Phil, finally met him for real after all the stolen looks, and it was better than he could have imagined. That night was the first night he didn't think about Jimmy since he got there, instead he imagined possible scenarios between him and Phil. He thought about Phil pushing him roughly on the bed, though about the way he imagined his eyes would glimmer when he had Dan at his mercy. He would look into his eyes and beg to be touched, would throw his hands at his sides, would mewl in desperation, and Phil would just watch, palming himself through his pants, grinding onto Dan's clothed cock and making him squirm. Dan breathed heavily as the fantasy unfolded in his mind and he started touching himself, longing for another warm hand to press along with his, to bring him to the edge. He sneaked his right hand out of the covers and started sucking on his index finger, arching his back in pleasure. He had the dirtiest thought right then, what if Phil knew what he was doing? That he was thinking about him, fingering himself to the thought of his hands on his body? Dan had a feeling the boy would be proud, and would spur him on. He was wicked, Dan thought. He breathed. He breathed again. His lungs didn't feel big enough to accommodate all the feelings of that moment. He breathed. And he came.

***

The next day they only had pastor Forbes, no military man in sight. He couldn't feel relieved, though, since he had a feeling it was a temporary arrangement. He sat down in his usual place at the front and scanned the room for Phil. At first, he was worried when he didn't immediately see him, but soon enough he came in, apologized for being late and sat down in his usual seat. Dan looked at him and felt his face flush, memories of that last night flooding his memory. Phil glanced at him and smiled, then looked him up and down, and started grinning in his usual way, like he could see right through Dan. Dan turned around so fast he heard his neck crack audibly. That damn bastard had no way of knowing. He felt his face burning up.

"Hello everyone. Today we are going to revisit our moral inventories, see if there is anything to add or anything you feel doesn't affect your behaviour anymore." He said behaviour in that way so they all knew what he really meant. Dan opened his notebook and skimmed the first page. ASdVD. Those were the sins that belonged to his family. Pastor Forbes insisted that sin was inherited, so that if Dan had a cartel owner in his family, for example, he would eventually become one too. Or was more likely to. He didn't really understand. In any case, those were his sins too. Alcoholism, Sexual Deviance, Violence, Drugs. Alcoholism for his uncle. Sexual deviance for his other uncle. Violence for his cousin, and drugs for his dad. That last one had been a surprise for him too. He supposed he'd been naïve to believe his dad was innocent, but he'd never expected it, what with him being a priest and all that.

He looked at the other half of the page then and saw his own sins listed in the same fashion. Homosexuality was his big one, but he also had Impiety on his list, as well as Disrespect of Parental Authority (abbreviated DPA, close enough to PDA to earn a chuckle). He had been there for almost two weeks and he didn't feel any closer to God or his parents. And even though he felt none of it rang true, he crossed out the last two and started taking some notes in the margins next to them. He had said his prayers every day dutifully, he had witnesses on that one, and he could very well pretend to feel remorse for his comment on the first day, as well as say he had been simply in a state of anger and misdirected it at his parents. He thought about what Noah said. Play the part. Make them think it's working. And get out. He wanted to do all that, except… if he left, Phil would still be stuck there. And so would the rest of them, hundreds if Noah was to be believed. He couldn't shake off his words. He went back and rewrote his list with nothing crossed out. He thought that would buy him some more time at the camp. The paper was staring back at him, looked like it mocked him and his stupid hero complex.

Pastor Forbes walked up to him and looked at the page. Dan already regretted his decision, but it was too late. The pastor shot him a pitying look and said:

"We'll have to work on that, won't we?" and walked away. Dan felt like he had rocks for brains. He had really sabotaged himself for a boy. Again. Phil owed him big.

***

It had happened a year before, in the summer.

Jimmy and he had been best friends their whole lives. He called Dan when anything important happened, told him his every secret, included him in his life even though they hadn't been at the same school since fourth grade. He was sarcastic and closed off with everyone else, but not with him. That night he'd called to tell Dan that he'd broken up with his latest girlfriend. It felt weird though, different. Jimmy had told him the story but was unusually silent afterwards, not making any of his jokes, not trying to lighten up the mood the way he always did. Maybe it was false hope, but Dan could swear something was about to happen.

Jimmy rolled on his side, abandoning the stars and staring at Dan. Dan kept looking up.

"Psst. Da-an…" he said in a sing-song voice, making a half-hearted attempt at making him laugh. It didn't work. "Danny boy. Look at me, you dick." He laughed, slightly bouncing him on the trampoline. He turned his head. Jimmy's smile died down and his eyes flickered between his own. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure. Anything." his voice was rough as he said it, weak from lack of use.

"Promise not to tell anyone?"

"Promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"Just say it already, we're not five anymore." Dan managed a weak smile. He was too nervous to do more.

"Just pinky promise and I'll tell you." He was such a kid sometimes. Dan sighed and let him grab his little finger with his own and they shook on it.

Jimmy looked at him, then up at the sky. Dan watched him open his mouth, then close it again. He glanced at Dan one more time, then looked at the stars as he said it.

"I think I'm gay." it was nothing more than a whisper. Jimmy looked so scared, and Dan was almost hurt. He knew it wasn't his fault, that being scared was normal, but he'd wished Jimmy wasn't simply _normal_ around him. He wished Jimmy saw how much he loved him.

When Dan didn't say anything for a few seconds. Jimmy sat up. Dan couldn't let him go like that. He tackled him back onto the trampoline. Dan was on top of him, and the trampoline bouncing up and down with him straddling Jimmy's lap. It made the world swirl around him. Jimmy looked almost shocked. His lips were parted, and his eyes, his face, his soul, was laid bare in front of him. Dan saw Jimmy's Adam's apple bob up and down, saw him licking his lips. His pulse raced, his head spun.

Jimmy grabbed his arms and pulled him down until they were breathing the same air. Dan had never felt as alive as the moment Jimmy kissed him for the first time. At that moment, it was a declaration, a statement. They sat on the trampoline and kissed each other for what felt like hours, exploring with wandering hands, licking into each other's mouths with a burning desire, long suppressed between them. It had been the first time Dan had kissed a boy, and he'd never looked back. But it had also been his first big mistake, because his love for Jimmy was what brought him there, at the conversion camp.

***

Days later, days spent wishing and searching for a way out for everyone, Dan partially gave up. Or at least decided it was best to take a break. He spent his days going to the meetings, looking at his moral inventory, and starting again with his habit of sneaking around to see a certain boy. This time around, it was totally innocent, except for the loaded comments Phil sometimes made that had Dan blushing and looking away, or lately, reciprocating with a tension-filled remark of his own. It was just, Dan couldn't help but compare everything they did together with his time spent with Jimmy. And that made his stomach churn with guilt. Because Jimmy could be waiting for him. At least part of Dan hoped he was. The other part of him, though, the one that was kept sane by the thought of his next rendezvous with Phil, that part of him just wanted to forget. He knew he was wrong anyway. Jimmy wasn't waiting, he wasn't that kind of person. He'd already moved on.

***

It had been two weeks. The conversion camp was many things, but ultimately, most of all, it was boring. They had brought him once on a field, made all of them try their hand at baseball, screamed at one of the girls that was scared to get near the rapidly approaching ball. Dan gave the ball a serious whack on his turn, the only one who managed to do it. Phil had come close, looked like he'd at least held a baseball in his hands before, but he couldn't do it. Dan shot him a look like "Whaddyagonnadoaboutit", shrugged at him like it was no big deal, and left him huffing in exasperation with a wild look in his eyes. That had been the last time anything interesting happened at the camp.

When there weren't lectures in the great hall, they moved in several wooden tables, making it look like a makeshift library. Dan often sat there, staring at his journal the way he saw everyone else do, thinking about everything. Time passed slowly at the camp. One of those days, Phil sat down next to him, and while that wasn't technically off-limits, he felt weird. There were other people there, and the room was mostly silent except for the sound of pens dragging across paper and other miscellaneous sounds, which didn't make for a good enough cover for whatever the hell Phil wanted to talk about.

But Phil just sat there. He didn't even say hi. He just opened his own notebook and started writing. His pages were filled with handwritten text, and it looked a lot like a journal. His cursive was all over the place, but the pages were organized, colour-coded and tabbed. It also looked like he had already completed half of it. Dan couldn't help the small "Woah" that escaped him.

Phil smirked, drawing his pen across the paper faster. He finished the sentence he was writing with a flourish and dramatically placed the period at the end. He then looked at Dan with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" he asked. "Something wrong?"

The nonchalant attitude Phil was displaying made Dan sputter even further.

"Why are you doing this?" he couldn't help the disbelief in his voice. "Are you… what?"

"Why, but what I'm doing is perfectly normal. Why else are we here, Daniel, if not to document in excruciating detail our journey with the dreaded H-word?"

Dan helplessly thought what his own would look like if he wrote down everything he did. He decided he'd maybe leave out the R-rated parts. In any case, Phil never called him Daniel unless he was fucking with him, so he decided this must have an explanation beyond "Phil is surprisingly phobic of himself and wants to repent for eye-fucking strangers all of a sudden". He thought just about anything was more plausible than that.

But he just said "Okay weirdo." and left it at that.

Phil, however, looked annoyed at Dan's willingness to let it go so easily.

"Well, if you asked so nicely, then yes, of course, I'll tell you why the hell I'm doing this. So you see, Daniel-"

"Stop calling me that." Dan snapped at him. Phil looked taken aback for a second by Dan's aggressive attitude, but then his eyebrows dropped and his eyes mellowed, and he looked so incredibly fond Dan wanted to hide under the table.

"So you see, Dan," and he dropped the falsetto voice he had been using, moving into a lower octave, a more serious tone that made shivers go down Dan's spine, "My father wants to see this notebook when I go back home. He is dead set that this year 'round I'll have something to show for my visits. So he makes me write these offensively long accounts of what every day here is like, including my thoughts on the books he makes me read."

Phil searched Dan's eyes like he was waiting for a question. Dan could think of several, but something that had hit him upside the head about that whole story was his mention of home. It made him feel funny, but he couldn't pinpoint why.

"I didn't bring books. Didn't think they were allowed," was what he said. Phil nodded, but sucked his lips in for a second and popped them back out without looking at him. He had probably expected something else.

"Yeah, not all of them are. Oscar Wilde, for example. They'd burn the book and you with it. Or Shakespeare. Maybe Proust you could get away with, but Whitman? No way. Sappho would be a laughable attempt. I mean, just one look at her name, right?"

Dan felt like he was losing the thread of the conversation. He'd only heard of the first two and had no idea they'd been gay. He knitted his brows in confusion. Phil must have seen him, because he said: "Don't worry about it, these aren't like, common knowledge or anything. The priest and the rest of them, they're just freaks." And even though Dan cracked a smile at that, he knew Phil was lying to make him feel better. This was, curiously, the first time it didn't work.

"Well, what does that thing with Sappho mean? What does her name mean?" Dan couldn't stomach the thought of Phil thinking he was an idiot. He only then noticed that Phil was wearing glasses. He thought he remembered him mentioning them, but Dan had never seen him like that until that very moment. The image of the bad boy that he'd had in the beginning was nearly gone by now. He'd seen him laugh, throwing his head back in delight, and bad boys didn't do that, right? They just sat there brooding. But Phil wasn't brooding. Phil was smart, he was funny, he was everything Dan wanted to be but had never managed to. He found himself wanting to be that person for Phil in return.

"Her full name is Sappho of Lesbos, technically." he smiled with his tongue between his teeth. "Kinda on the nose, don't you think? But well, Lesbos was just a city before she came along, so I guess she could have been Sappho of anything in the end."

As the conversation went by, Phil had shifted closer and closer to Dan until they were sitting almost forehead to forehead. From the outside, Dan surmised it could just be considered polite, to talk in hushed whispers close to each other as to not disturb the other campers. But being where he was, Dan felt his airflow being cut off by the proximity. And Phil knew what he was doing too, the bastard. Under the table, he put his hand on Dan's thigh, rubbing small circles into his skin. It wasn't much, really, but Phil wasn't in the habit of touching him. Not at all, really. His preferred medium was words, and he had a way with them. But now, with his palm radiating warmth near Dan's knee, he felt he was in uncharted territory. It was intimate, too intimate even, and it felt like a jump into rocky, capricious waters. But then Phil started moving his hand up, up, up, very slowly, all the while moving his thumb in that back-and-forth motion that drove Dan mad. He went on talking, though, like nothing was happening.

"Shakespeare you know, of course-"

"I don't." Dan interrupted him, his words said on a choked inhale.

"No? It's fun being the one that teaches you these things." Dan knew he wasn't talking about the writers. But he almost laughed at the insinuation, because Phil would be in for a surprise if they ever went further. "His play Hamlet has all the gay subtext you'll need in a lifetime. He wrote hundreds of poems and sonnets dedicated to his male lovers. 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' isn't about Anne Hathaway, but rather a mysterious W.H." The conspiratorial tone he used, like Dan was the only other person meant to know those things, the way he was whispering them in his ear by this point, the hand, that had travelled so high it was now caressing the place where his leg met his hip, sitting on his inner thigh with its side pressed against his groin… Dan was half hard by now and was sure Phil could feel it. "Oscar Wilde was imprisoned for his love." Phil licked the shell of his ear, "Just like you are." and he was gone.

Phil moved away from him swiftly as if he'd never even been there. Dan felt like he'd been punched. He processed what just happened for a second, still riding the wave of arousal from a few seconds prior. What had Phil meant by that? Imprisoned for his love? What? And then it hit him. But Phil couldn't have any way of knowing, except for his sentence-long introduction on the first day. He'd never said anything.

"If you're wondering how I know, you shouldn't. When you look at me, you get this look in your eyes…" he sounded smug, almost, "but then your eyes glaze over and I know you're not thinking about me anymore. Which is fine, you know, it is." he sounded like he wanted to say something more, but he didn't. His voice was throatier than usual, affected. It took Dan a beat to remember he could talk.

"I…" he cleared his throat. "Phil, they're just memories. Regrets, mostly. I can tell you more about him, I just… I need to know you're not mad at me." and he said it even though there was no technical reason for him to get mad. They weren't together. But he had known where they were heading from the beginning. He needed Phil to know he hadn't led him on.

Phil looked like a kicked puppy. He raised those blue eyes at him, eyebrows raised at the corners.

"Mad for what, Dan? I'm not mad." No, Dan could tell he wasn't. But he was sad, and that was even worse.

"Come with me? Let's go for a walk." he tried a smile. Phil smiled back. Dan would fix this.

***

"Are you still in love with him?"

Dan didn't think he had a satisfying answer to that question.

"I don't know if I ever was." he let out a breath. "He was my first, you know? Loads of feelings are attached to that label alone, but I'm not sure how many of those are necessarily about him."

"I get it. I didn't have that myself, but I get it."

They were walking around in circles in the closed courtyard. Dan felt like a zoo animal trapped in his cage. Phil kicked a stray rock around now and again. Everything was eerily quiet. Dan wished Phil would just look at him, instead of acting so interested in that bloody pebble. But then again, Dan didn't know what he would do if he saw those eyes. Probably kiss him, and that would be risky as hell.

"Hm." Dan thought of something to say to fill the silence. "You never told me how you knew you were gay. Or, not straight, I guess. We never talked about it."

"I'm gay, yeah. I guess I've always known. I tried kissing girls, but my mind kept wandering off to my geography homework or something," he laughed. "I'm guessing you're a bit more flexible than that?"

Dan kept silent. He figured he might as well be honest.

"I've never actually kissed a girl before. Except if you count one prepubescent game of spin the bottle that went horribly wrong." Phil gave a real smile at that. "So basically Jimmy's been my first real experience with, like, _everything_. And I know that's true for him too. So I guess make of that what you will."

It was Phil's turn to be silent, to mull over what Dan said. He looked at him, though, and Dan saw that the tension in his body gave away a bit. He looked at Dan and sighed, but he was smiling.

"First times are important. They pave the way for all the rest." Phil wiggled his eyebrows at him when he said it, and Dan felt lightheaded with happiness.

They stayed out and talked. They talked about video games, books (excluding classics), they told stories that were both harrowing and funny, and just like that, the day slipped away from them. They stayed out until late in the evening, when dinner was served, and when it was, they sat next to each other and kept on laughing. Dan almost didn't notice how disgusting the mashed potatoes were and how unseasoned and cardboard-y everything on his plate was. He did, though, and they laughed about that too.

When they finished and headed up for the dorms, Dan invited Phil to come into his room. "Just for a bit," he said. He'd expected to have to tiptoe around the room, careful not to alert Luca that there was someone else in there, but as he closed the door behind him and shushed Phil and his stupid giggles, he noticed Luca's door was wide open and the boy was nowhere to be found. Phil noticed too, it seemed, because suddenly he got very quiet and just looked at Dan. He looked as serious as Dan had ever seen him look, and carefully stepped closer to him. Dan hadn't noticed their height difference before, but Phil was just a bit taller than him. An inch or two, probably. He had no business looking down at him like _that._

"Would you look at that," he said. "There seems to be just the two of us." Even Phil sounded breathless by this point. Dan couldn't take it anymore. He was sure he sounded as pathetic as he felt at that moment, but he said it anyway.

"Please kiss me."

Phil didn't hesitate. It was barely out of his mouth when Phil cupped the back of his neck and leaned in, capturing his bottom lip between his own. Dan whimpered and balled his fists in Phil's t-shirt, pulling him that much closer. They parted for a second, relishing in the sheer bliss of that moment, and went in again, kissing and kissing and kissing, soft lips capturing each other for what felt like forever. Dan didn't know what to do with his hands, he wanted to touch everything. They wandered to Phil's face, where he cupped his cheeks and felt the stubble under his fingers, scratchy and decidedly _male_. His fingers travelled into his hair, where he ran them back and forth for a second and then pulled. Phil broke away to hiss in pain. He looked at Dan and his pupils were dilated to the point where you could barely even see the blue in his eyes anymore. He cupped the back of Dan's head with one hand and held his back with the other, then pushed him forcefully against the wall and slotted one of his legs between Dan's own. Dan's entire body was thrumming with pleasure. Phil started leaving small kisses on his neck, trailing them down, down, down. Dan held his head and grabbed fistfuls of hair, pulling at it the way he saw Phil liked it. The latter groaned and started sucking onto Dan's skin. Dan pulled him off before he left a mark and brought his mouth up to his, thirsty for his lips on his own, his tongue in his mouth. They clashed and kissed furiously, passionately, unabashedly.

Dan held Phil's shoulders and swapped places with him, never breaking from the kiss. He put his hands on Phil's torso, then down and under his shirt, where he caressed his skin, played with the hair on his chest, tweaked his nipples to see if he got a reaction. Phil let out a breathy laugh.

"Don't put your hope in that. Not gonna happen," he said, twirling a strand of Dan's hair on his finger.

Dan smiled briefly, then dropped to his knees. He looked up at Phil and put on his most innocent face, even managed a pout. He could see the effect it had on Phil. And man did it feel good to have Phil look at him like that. And rise for him like that. He had been working on his belt buckle for a few seconds when Phil grabbed both sides of his face and tilted his head back.

"Are you sure you want this?"

Dan let out a quiet laugh. "I've never wanted anything more." 

***

The next day when Dan woke up, it was noon. No one had come to wake him up. Cue anxiety. Luca's door was still wide open, the same as the night before. Dan grabbed some clothes, brushed his teeth, washed his face. A pit in his stomach. Just another Tuesday. He went into the hallway and saw the door to Peter and Matthew's room was open. He knocked on the open door and let himself in. Laughter was coming from the bathroom.

"Hi, guys, what's going on?"

They both looked surprised that he was there. "You left your door open," he said.

"Oh shit. Yeah, hi. Sorry 'bout the mess." he scratched his head. It was undeniably awkward. "Soo, I noticed you weren't there at breakfast. There's a thing later."

"What thing?" 

"No idea, mate," Peter shot him a strange look. "You slept in?" he asked and gave him a sarcastic grin. Peter was Irish. Or at least sounded Irish.

"Yeah, hah. I did." he didn't know what else to say. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it, then." he turned to leave and heard Matthew shouting from the bathroom.

"Dress nice, they said. Be there at five. Rest of the day's free." and that was that.

Dan started biting his nails on the way back to his room. Something was wrong. Just as he was about to seal himself away in his room, he saw Phil coming down the stairs, presumably from his dorm. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Dan and came towards him. He opened his mouth like he was about to speak, but Dan frantically shushed him, pointing towards the still open door on Matt and Peter's room. He gestured towards his own and Phil managed to slip by without getting noticed.

"What was that about?" Phil shot him an unsure grin.

"Nothing. It was just. I didn't want you to say something inappropriate and have everyone find out."

Phil crept closer to him like he was his prey. He brushed the curls from his eyes and let his eyes trail to Dan's lips, all the while wearing a borderline _evil_ smile.

"When have I ever said something inappropriate?" and then they were kissing. But as much as Dan enjoyed it and wanted to keep doing it, there were more pressing matters at hand. He gently pushed Phil away, who struggled for a bit, trying to keep kissing him. When he saw that Dan wasn't giving in, he whined in the back of his throat and stepped away.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing. Or, I don't know. Luca didn't come back to the dorms last night. And now Matthew said that there's some event later that we need to dress nice for. Know what that's about?"

"No idea." Phil plopped on the bed. He propped his legs on the wall and let his head hang from the edge of the bed. "Think there's something to worry about?"

Dan sat down next to him. Phil put his head in his lap. "I just have a bad feeling," Dan answered. He pushed Phil's hair back from where it was sitting on his forehead. Phil had stopped doing his quiff daily, probably out of laziness.

"Can I kiss it better?" he asked, pursing his lips up at him and closing his eyes.

"You'll have to get up for that." Phil opened his eyes to shoot him a dirty look.

"Absolutely not," he said, and wrapped his hands around Dan's middle, snuggling his crotch. Dan could barely hold in his laughter. He felt warm all over. Smiling, he tried to pry Phil's hands away, but he was holding strong.

"Da-an…" Phil whined.

"Okay, fine. Stay like that, see if I care."

Soon, Phil started snoring. Dan rolled his eyes and pushed him away.

"Go to your room, dingwad. Sleep, and we'll talk later."

Phil got up from the bed like gravity was suddenly ten times stronger, and walked to the door. Just before opening it, he turned around and gave Dan one last kiss, short and sweet.

***

Five PM. In the Festivities Hall, the staff was handing out ties to people. Dan took one and sat down, looking around him, hoping he'd spot Phil. He tried to put the tie on, but he just couldn't get it right. He struggled, pulling at it from every angle, but gave up two minutes in, breathing hard, with a disaster hanging from his neck. Just then Phil decided to show up. 

"Help. Please," Dan said, a vein throbbing on his forehead. Phil laughed and helped adjust the tie, letting it rest flawlessly against Dan's chest. It was a bit wrinkled from Dan's attempt, and Dan contemplated getting another one but decided against it.

"There you go." Phil eyed him. "It looks pretty on you."

Dan shot him a look. Behind them, the doors opened.

Four people entered the room, holding a casket. They walked slowly, backs straight, eyes cast forward. Dan's blood ran cold. He could feel the room holding their breath. All the worst possibilities were on a slideshow in his mind. He looked at Phil, who was equally horrified and at the whole room, who sat still. Behind them came Luca and his parents, as well as his little sister, escorted by the pastor, who gestured toward a member of the staff, and suddenly it was dark. The curtains were drawn, and several people were lighting candles across the room.

Luca climbed onto the stage, and pastor Forbes drew a chair for him to sit on, behind the casket. The parents were seated in the front row, as well as the blonde girl wearing pigtails, swinging her legs and biting her nails. Dan wanted to tell her to sit still, to keep her fingers out of her mouth, but then again, he couldn't even do that himself, having already drawn blood.

"We are here to say… farewell. To our son, our friend and our brother, Luca Caulfield, who, by his own making, last night, fell prey to Satan's wishes."

Phil gently lowered Dan's hand from his mouth. Dan put it back.

"Brother Caulfield, is this what you want for your son?" the pastor asked.

The man shook his head, mouth half-open. "No."

The pastor turned to Luca, whose head was hanging, hands resting on the edge of the casket. The table behind him was lined with candles that emitted a glowing red-yellow aura. In the dark room, with the flaming light all around and the burgundy casket in front of him, Luca looked like he was standing at the gates of hell.

The pastor turned to Luca. "Young man, is this you?" Luca shook his head, looking down, silent. "Brother Luca, is this what you _want_?" He shouted.

"No." his voice broke on the word.

"Come here, all of you. Bring him down."

The dad pulled his son from the chair by his armpits, dragged him to the front of the stage and let go of him. Luca was on his knees. They pushed him down until he was holding himself up by his elbows, and then they were hitting him. The pastor continued his rage, speaking loudly, eyes alive with fire. "Who's gonna strike this demon down?" he shouted.

"I will." the father spoke.

One by one, the pastor, the father, the mother, took turns striking him with a tattered bible. Every blow echoed, the sound hitting the walls and seeming to go on forever. Each hit built upon the last, the cries of his roommate ringing in Dan's ears, louder and louder. The screaming was inside his head, overshadowing any thoughts, making breathing and blinking and moving not only impossible, but insignificant.

Pastor Forbes came down from the stage, crouched in front of the little girl, closed her hands around the bible. Pigtails bounced up and down, the pink ribbons dangling from her hair whooshing around her as she climbed onto the stage. Dan couldn't see her face but felt his heart jolt painfully when the bible came down one last time.

***

They carried him to another part of the building, to a bathroom. Fully clothed, he sat in the bathtub, while several people were hovering over him, and all of the students stood around the room, in the doorway, in the hall, waiting. They started the water, soaking him in it, his clothes getting darker as the liquid seeped into them. Dan couldn't take it.

He turned his back on all of them and headed to the exit. Phil grabbed his hand, pulling him back, pleading with his eyes. Dan looked around them, making sure no one was watching. He knew he shouldn't leave. Yet, he did anyway.

***

He didn't sleep. He waited in his room, hoping Luca would show up, but he never did. Phil didn't either. How could these things happen? What kind of law protected these people?

He felt so deeply alone, so helpless, he started crying. He cried for hours, wishing his mom was there, wishing even for his dad, yet resenting them for what they did to him. Resenting them even though they probably didn't know what was going on, resenting them for what they represented, for all the parents they represented that put their children through the same hell. He didn't want to know what was going on in that bathroom but burned with curiosity in spite of himself. He felt like a coward for leaving, but he knew he'd feel like a coward if he had stayed, too. He simply hoped the parents took Luca home. In fact, he was sure of it. They were on their way to the shithole they called home, leaving this place behind for good. And perhaps they were telling their friends, relatives, the police, about the camp. Get it closed up for good.

Dan scrubbed at the dried tears on his face as the sun slowly pushed its way up on the sky. He could see purple, pink, blue, metallic grey, through the white, old see-through curtains hanging at the window. He got up and washed his face, cold water, hot water, cold water again. Rolling up a towel, he ran it under the cool stream and rested it on his forehead, to calm the throbbing headache that came with sleep deprivation. Holding it there, he made his way to the window, watched the sunrise, breathed in the fresh countryside air. He never got to enjoy that part. The trees, the sky, the air. They were significant at that moment.

Downstairs, it was empty. Dan figured it was too early to hope anyone would be there, but even so, the feeling of an abandoned building, of being in an alternate reality, nagged him. He sat on the edge of the stage, looking around. The room looked pristine, and for a second he wondered if the previous night had actually happened. He couldn't be sure until he saw someone and asked them.

Minutes passed, hours, and people started trickling in. First, the staff, arranging the room for breakfast, who gave him funny looks, then the students, the campers. Dan didn't even know if the place counted as a summer camp.

They all ate, while he sat soulless in one of the chairs at the table, on the end nearest to the door. Phil wasn't there. Dan thought his presence would be the one to snap him out of his haze, hoped the boy would crack a joke and remind him he was capable of smiling, but he didn't. Just as everyone was about to leave, most of them having finished their food, Dan's still sitting cold and untouched on his plate, the pastor came in, followed by the military man, and, weirdly, trailing behind them, was Phil. Phil, who looked at him once, with an empty gaze, and then avoided his eyes, marching towards the stage. So many things had happened on that stage, Dan was beginning to think it was cursed. After the announcement they were about to give, Dan's first thought would be " _I am cursed._ "

"We…" The pastor stopped, and seemed to change his mind. "Brother Luca took his own life last night."

Denial. Panic. Anger. Defeat. Dan felt like he was going through the five stages of grief all at once except acceptance. It was the only one unwilling to show up. He simply couldn't take it anymore.

"How did he die?" Dan was breathing heavily. Phil's eyes came back to life when he spoke, shooting daggers at him, telling him to shut up with his eyes. Dan wouldn't do that. He couldn't stay silent.

"Brother Daniel-"

"No. Uh-uh. You don't get to call me that. Don't say my name." Dan got up from his place at the table and went to face the only real demons in that room. He looked at Phil, who was standing behind the pastor and the military man, shaking his head at him, wide-eyed and nothing like the confident boy he'd met when he first came there. He addressed him. "What are you doing, huh? Why are you cowering behind them? I thought you were brave."

Then he turned to the people who were really guilty for this.

"You killed him. You fucking killed him!" he screamed, spit flying from his mouth in his rage. "You have blood on your hands, Pastor Forbes. What you did to Luca was cold-blooded. Murder." he was pointing his finger at him, stepping closer with every word.

"Mr. Howell, calm down," said the military man. Dan was getting sick of calling him that in his head. Couldn't he have given a damn name?

"Calm down? Hah." he laughed wryly, shooting Phil one last look. "I'm out of here."

And he ran. He ran to where he knew they kept his things: his phone, to be precise. He slammed the door open, went straight for the drawer with his name on it. It wasn't even locked. What idiots left these kinds of objects for anyone to take? The woman supposed to be guarding them was trying to wrestle them out of his hands, but he got her off him relatively quickly. Then came the military man in the room, who wasn't nearly as easy to shake off. He struggled.

"I want my things and I want to go," he said evenly, trying to reason with them, as a last resort. The man pinned him to the wall, wrestled his hands to his sides. Then came Phil running into the room.

"Dad, stop! Let go of him!" Phil was panting, presumably from having run after the military man. His dad. Dan didn't have time to process what that meant. Pastor Forbes came into the room and saw Dan struggling.

"Frank, let go of him! Let go of the kid, Frank."

'Frank' stepped away and Dan took off, running for the exit. When he reached it, the doors to said exit were locked. He pounded into them, screaming to be let out. He felt close to tears. Pastor Forbes blocked his way in the direction he came from, eliminating any possibility of finding another exit.

"Son, calm down. We can fix this. You're just having a moment, it's normal."

Dan bolted for the bathroom, the only place he could still run off to. He locked himself into the furthest stall and dialled his mom. She could get him out.

"Mom? Mom!"

"Dan? Sweetheart? What's wrong?" hearing her voice for the first time in over two months, Dan started bawling like a little kid.

"Mom, please come pick me up, please come, please," he sobbed.

"What's the matter, are you hurt? Daniel?"

"I need you to come get me, please, I'm in trouble."

***

Dan came out of the bathroom.

"I called my mom. She's on her way here."

"Daniel, you've got to understand that what you're going through is just a moment."

Dan couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"A moment? _A moment_." he shook his head.

"Yes, son. I know how it feels, I've been through it just like you are right now. It'll pass."

"It won't pass! That's what you don't get. This place will fucking haunt me. You push all these kids to their breaking points, then come and announce their deaths like they're some unfortunate accidents! Fuck you."

Military man, Frank, took a step forward. He looked ready to wring Dan's neck. Pastor Forbes stopped him.

"Daniel-"

"I've read the rules. There's nothing in them saying I can't leave."

"Yes, I-"

"And if anyone puts their hands on me-"

"No one's doing that. Hey, hey, why would anybody do that? Have a seat, we're gonna wait for your mom."

***

He'd been there for an hour, with the pastor praying over him, the same thing, over and over again, ringing in his ears. _Please_ God _let Daniel see the right way, let him see his mistakes. Guide him towards the light._ He was looking at Phil, who stood right in front of him, hands crossed over his chest, concerned look on his face. His dad wasn't in the room. Dan smiled at him.

His mom appeared at the door. Her panicked face through the glass panel could have been enough to make him weep, but he was on a mission. "Mom, they won't let me go!" he shouted. Pastor Forbes lifted his hands off Dan's shoulders, going to the door to deal with her. In the resulting chaos of his mom screaming and the pastor fruitlessly trying to get her to shut up, Dan got up and got Phil.

"When I go, you come with me," he whispered in his ear. Phil bit his lip. "This might be your only chance. You have to come. We'll figure out the rest later."

Dan's mom convinced pastor Forbes to open the door. Dan grabbed Phil's hand.

"Let's get out of here."

*****

**Author's Note:**

> You made it! (Or you just scrolled to the end, in which case, booo, shaame. Go back up!). I hope you enjoyed it, and if you want me to post an epilogue, let me know (and subscribe so you can see it first when it goes up).


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